


Love$ick

by yourfictionalprincess



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourfictionalprincess/pseuds/yourfictionalprincess
Summary: Nobody is fine with being cheated on.





	Love$ick

“Iwa-chan? I’m letting myself in.”

The door knob twists, door pushing with a familiar creak. Hajime doesn’t lift up to see who it is—there’s no need. Oikawa steps in and sits himself on the edge of the bed, practice bag slung down and mattress giving with the additional weight. If it were another day he might have been yelling at his friend for throwing shit around in his room; Oikawa’s thigh brushing against his arm and a warm hand on his back is just another reminder that it’s not.

“Coach sends his regards. Hopes you feel better soon.”

Fingers thumb idly over notches of his spin, Hajime lifts his head long enough to ask, “What’d you tell him I went home with?”

“Explosive diarrhea.”

His head drops back into the folds of his pillow. “You’re a real shitty friend.”

“The shittiest.” Oikawa replies easily, back to running his fingers over Hajime, tracing patterns when he runs out of notches to press over.

Oikawa says nothing else. His silence is as welcoming as it is stifling.

“What are you doing?”

His voice is abrupt, even to his own ears. Oikawa doesn’t seem bothered by it, skimming callous tips over where his shirt's pulled up. He tugs it back down for Hajime before answering. “Hm? Oh. Rubbing your back I guess?”

Hajime grunts, finally picking himself up with a push, knocking Oikawa’s hands away in the process. His look is enough for Oikawa to know what he means, but for the sake of clarity he still adds, “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you earlier I’d be fine—I just needed some space—”

 “That’s bullshit, Hajime. And you know it.”

Brown eyes cut to him, smile gone without a trace. Hajime always forgets how serious Oikawa can look when they drop all pretenses. It catches him by surprise, just like now when all he can do is blink wide-eye at his best friend.

The hand that reaches to squeeze his wrist is gentle despite the steel-edge to Oikawa’s expression. A breath falls from his lips that’s something like a sigh. “You hate when I lie to your face like that, yeah? So don’t do it too when it makes you so mad. That’s not like you.”

Hajime bristles. “What the fuck? I’m not fucking lying, shithead. I told you I’m fine—”

“And that,” Oikawa interrupts, emphasizing, “is a lie and absolute bullshit.”

“Nobody…” he continues, hesitation clear in his pursing lips, “…is fine with being cheated on.”

The last part comes out as a whisper.

It feels like a fully grown elephant has been dropped onto his chest—or maybe that heavy feeling never actually left him to begin with. Hajime’s never actually been hit by a truck but he thinks that this is a close second. He kind of hates Tooru for coming in here like this; just ripping of the bandaid like the insensitive ass he his. Though really, he mostly hates himself for not just leaving well enough alone—Oikawa would have let them remain in silence; he’s a good friend like that.  

Everything feels too strange though, like cruising through the dreamscape on the bicuspids of waking up and realizing that reality still exists around him; that _he_ is still expected to function in the flow somehow, even when everything is as disorienting as waking up to a cold splash of water to the face.

It puts him on edge, makes him feel completely out of control and Hajime doesn’t _do_ out of control.  

He wonders how much of this shows on his face—probably all of it by the way Oikawa’s lips are pressed up. He can just see the overwhelming guilt in his eyes for bringing anything up. But he also can see those brows furrow down, jaw squaring into something that speaks of a set mind and Hajime doesn’t even try to fight the hug when he’s pulled into it—welcomes it more than anything with a nose pressed into the crook of Oikawa’s shoulder, making the lump in his throat grow even bigger.

Hajime can feel the sigh that ghosts over his ear. “Everything isn’t fine, Hajime” Oikawa tells him, “and you don’t need to pretend that they are. If you want to be mad then get mad. If you feel sad then be sad. But please don’t just act like this is nothing. You’re too good at ignoring things that hurt you as it is. You owe it to yourself, Hajime. You did nothing wrong.”   

Oikawa’s bony chin digging into his shoulder and Hajime wants to say something about it; bypass what his friend is talking about, ignore it like it doesn’t exist. He doesn’t want to talk about, doesn’t want to hear about it—what kind of person wants to sit around and think about their inadequacy?

He wasn’t enough and that’s a fact. So not enough that someone he cares about has to go and find someone else just to get what Hajime was incapable of giving to their relationship—

_You don’t text me enough; you don’t take me out enough; we don’t have enough sex; why are you so awkward around my friends; why don’t you just hang out with my friends instead; just stop hanging around that Oikawa guy so much;_

_I’m sorry but you’re not enough for me anymore, Hajime._

He sucks in a breath so hard it makes him heave, a truly pathetic sound jumping out of his throat that muffles into the side of Oikawa’s neck. Hajime sucks in another breath after and somewhere in the string of incoherent mumbles, he gets out a raspy, “Can we please not talk about this anymore?”

The _no_ is clear just in the way Oikawa’s arms strain around him, body going absolutely rigid in protest. But it softens—always softens—Oikawa relaxing back into him and tucking Hajime more firmly in his hold instead, like a mother would a small child. It makes feels very small; useless in a way that makes him sick to admit. But Oikawa is yielding and letting him get away because he’s a _wonderful_ friend like that.

“What do you want me to do, Hajime?” Oikawa’s voice is so soft it makes something in his chest ache. He’s being too gentle, too good at this whole comforting thing.

_Stay,_ his mind thinks.

“Stay.” His mouth sounds. “Tell me about what went on at practice today. About the movie I missed last weekend.”

_Just don’t stop talking. I don’t have to think if you keep talking._

And so Oikawa does.

**Author's Note:**

> an excuse because there isn't enough platonic cuddling between these two.
> 
> (though if you want to hurt more, imagine Oikawa being very in love with Iwaizumi during this) 
> 
> title is a song a I like a whole lot rn
> 
> [tumblr](https://yourfictionalprincess.tumblr.com/)


End file.
